Vital Information
by cheride
Summary: Peter has a nagging suspicion that Neal can pull a scam, even when drugged. Missing scene for Vital Signs.


_This is a work of fanfiction, for entertainment purposes only. The characters and concepts of White Collar do not belong to me, but to its creators._

**Author's Notes:** Like a lot of people, I was struck by Neal's admission about trust to Peter, even if he did have to be drugged to get the words out. But I thought a trained FBI agent--especially one who'd spent a few years chasing the master con artist-- might be a little hesitant to accept such admissions at face value.

* * *

**Vital Information**

by

Cheride

"I guess Elizabeth is pretty ticked at you, huh?"

Peter stared at the door his wife had slammed on her way out to work. "What was your first clue?"

Caffrey offered a sympathetic smile as he moved carefully to join his partner at the dining table. "She'll get over it."

"She usually does," Burke agreed with a heavy sigh. "But one of these days . . ." He wasn't sure what sort of cosmic prankster thought it was fair that El would get so worked up over an innocent case while the ex-convict in his custody—the man he'd put behind bars only a few years earlier—considered him the most trustworthy guy he knew. Something was definitely off-kilter about that, though Peter was trying, mostly unsuccessfully, not to dwell too much on Caffrey's recent revelation.

Almost as if reading his mind, the ex-convict offered a reassurance. "Oh, come on, Peter," Neal laughed lightly, "don't be so melodramatic; you know she trusts you." He slumped down into a chair. "How could she not?"

Burke couldn't help it; he studied the younger man, alert for any sort of hesitation or insincerity. He really wanted to get rid of the nagging idea that he might've been played.

But Caffrey wasn't dwelling on the subject, either, and was moving on from assurance to advice. "I keep telling you," he admonished, "that you can't ignore a woman like that. You need to spend some time with her."

Peter waved a hand dismissively, knowing Neal was right, even if he didn't want to admit it. But at the moment, his attention was definitely elsewhere. "Yeah, I will. After the case." Then his uncertainty was edged aside by concern as he cast an appraising gaze over the younger man. "You sure you're okay? Stuff doesn't always wear right off, you know, and we don't even know what they gave you."

The conman straightened himself slightly. "I'll be fine. Besides, what do you want to do—take me to the ER and explain about the rogue orderlies?"

"It's not the orderlies I'm worried about," Burke shot back, "it's answering for rogue ex-convicts that keeps me on my toes."

"Sure, you say that now, but—" Caffrey's snappy remark trailed off as Burke fixed him with a stern gaze. He rubbed a hand across his eyes and straightened even further. "I guess you want to talk."

It wasn't so much that he _wanted_ to talk, as much as he thought they probably _needed_ to talk. Leaning forward, Peter clasped his hands in front of him on the tabletop and took a deep breath. "What do you remember?" he began. He thought it likely the young man recalled more than he would admit, but it couldn't hurt to ask.

"I remember enough," Neal hedged, but he relented almost immediately. "I remember that you saved me," he said softly, letting his eyes meet the older pair, "in more ways than one."

"Now who's being melodramatic?" Burke teased, but then he relented, too. Honesty was rarely the first policy for Caffrey; it ought to be reciprocated.

"I don't mind saving you, Neal," he admitted, "but what are you going to do when I can't? You can't go off on your own like that; you have to do things my way." He slapped a small cassette onto the table loudly. "Because _this_," he went on angrily, "is what happens when you take chances. Or worse."

Caffrey looked at the tape warily. "What's worse than going back to prison?"

"Jimmy Burger," Peter reminded him flatly.

"Right," Neal answered, swallowing hard, "you're right. And I'm sorry."

The agent shook his head. The kid just didn't get it. "It's not about being sorry, Neal; it's about being careful. The job isn't worth your life." He tapped on the tape. "The job's not worth your freedom, either, and I'd rather not be the guy responsible for locking you up again." Then his voice hardened. "But don't think I wouldn't if I had to."

"No," Caffrey assured him, "I'd never think that." He watched Burke's fingers still drumming lightly on the cassette, then nodded in that direction. "So what are you gonna do with that?" he asked. "Keep it as proof of my errant ways?"

Burke quirked a suddenly mischievous smile. "I don't need proof to put you back inside." Sometimes he really did enjoy playing that card.

"There is that," Neal conceded.

There was no resentment in the man's reply, no animosity in the tone. The agent was beginning to think maybe he hadn't been played at all, and he firmly believed that trust should be a two way street, whenever possible. He slid the tape across the table. "You take it."

The young man didn't reach for the tape, but just raised an eyebrow quizzically. "And do what with it? Keep it as proof of _your_ errant ways?"

Burke's smile didn't fade as he offered a slight shrug. "If you want."

Neal considered the tape for a few seconds, then shook his head. "I don't need proof to make things difficult for you."

"There is that," Peter agreed lightly.

Caffrey chuckled as he grabbed the tape and pried the case apart, leaving it in pieces on the table. "There. Now our transgressions—"

"_Alleged_ transgressions," Burke corrected.

"Absolutely. Our a_lleged_ transgressions will be our secret."

There was a brief moment of silence before Burke added, "Sort of like those manuscripts, I guess." He didn't really expect Caffrey to offer any further information, and he wasn't sure he'd want to know anyway, but he couldn't just let it go. He really didn't want to put the man in jail again, and if that meant some blatant reminders that the trust was well-placed, he could live with that.

Neal's smile faltered. "There wasn't a security camera in the conference room?"

Peter leaned back in his chair, satisfied. "No. That really is our secret." He tapped a finger to his forehead. "But I've got a good memory."

Caffrey examined his partner thoughtfully for a long moment, then visibly relaxed. "I wouldn't have it any other way."

And as the last of his doubt drifted away, Burke thought maybe things weren't so off-kilter after all.


End file.
